


phan oneshots

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots written about Dan and Phil in romantic and/or platonic relationships.</p>
<p>(some of these are really really cringeworthy and old, be warned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** Phil leaves Dan, and Dan is nothing more than a broken shell of a person. 
> 
> **Genre:** Angst 
> 
> **Warnings:** Suicide, major character death, self-harm, drug usage 
> 
> **Word Count:** 505

He used to trace intricate patterns into the sand when he was young. His family would stand there and congratulate him, but the waves washed them away. When he was older, he was the sand, carving patterns of blood and heartbreak into his pale skin. His family congratulated him, not for the scars, but for his so-called “girlfriend” at the time. She was slowly tearing him apart. 

But he didn’t love her, he loved Phil. Phil, the kind YouTuber, the person who tore him apart. Phil said he didn’t love him. He was useless. Phil didn’t love him, Phil hit him. Phil told him to go away, that he was a disgusting animal for loving men. He began carving the same intricate patterns as he did when he was young, however onto his skin this time. He used a sharp knife, recreating his memories with blood. The scars that remained stood out on his pale skin, and he showed them off at every moment.

They took him to mental wards, to prison cells filled with empty shells. Every time, he said the same thing: Phil made him this way. Phil made him this broken shell of a person.

He was allowed to leave, sure, but he was never alone. There were always doctors and nurses, watching their test subject slowly get better, or so they thought. He wasn’t any better. He was still as bad as he’d ever been, even with bottles of rattling things in him, even with therapy and drugs galore.

They made him promise, they made him swear, that under their watch, he’d get better as long as he kept trying. But he didn’t want to get better. He didn’t want to go back to Phil. He wanted Phil to see him this way, as he had made him.

He eventually turned to drugs, they were his only escape. They made him feel, instead of the emptiness that filled him everyday. He smoked anything that could be smoked, he snorted crack and other hard drugs, he even resorted to drinking on his lowest days. The money wasn’t a problem; all of his rich-ass family paid for everything, even his “habits,” as they called them.

It all became too much. Everything was too much. He needed a way to leave, permanently. He grabbed the razor that he kept next to him, and began carving the same patterns again. 

He made sure to cut open all his veins, he wanted to see the blood, he wanted to feel the pain. He remembered drawing a thin line down his arm, but then he didn’t remember anything.

He was nobody. He was finally alive.


	2. Badass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** Bamf!Phil and Pastel!Dan get together in a stereotypical American high school setting.
> 
>  **Genre:** Fluff
> 
>  **Warnings:** Bullying, (horribly written) smut
> 
>  **Word Count:** 1075

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _please_ don't read this. it's badly written, and just plain-old horrible. i only keep it up for sentimental reasons.

I slammed the locker door shut and rushed off to my last hour class with my things threatening to fall out of my grasp any minute. I made it there just in time, luckily not dropping anything.  
I set my books down on a random desk, not caring where I sat at all. All of the other kids were the same anyway, they teased me for my flower crowns and wearing pink.  
I gave a sigh of relief as I heard the bell ring, signaling that class was starting. The teacher, an old man by the name of Mr. Roberts, stood up from his desk and grabbed the sheet next to him to take attendance.  
“Alex Amon?”  
“Here!”  
“Mari Bendini?”  
“Here.”  
I zoned out until I heard my name, which in a class of 45 kids, took quite a while.  
“Dan Howell?”  
I groaned.  
“Mr. Howell, I would like a ‘Here’ or no words at all, just not a groan. I do not tolerate that kind of disrespect in my classroom. Now, can you please say ‘here’ when I say your name?”  
I sighed, “Here.”  
I could here a few snickers from the back row. Oh, gosh! So horrible!, I thought sarcastically to myself. Honestly, what was their problem? They only picked on me because I dressed differently, not even because I was gay or anything like that. It was literally the most pointless thing ever.  
I rested my head in the crook of my desk, waiting for this goddamn role call to be over.  
Finally, about 10 minutes later, we made it through the roll call and the teacher was about to give us out first assignment when a kid strutted through the door and plopped down in the desk next to me.  
The teacher obviously recognized him, even though it was the first day of school. His face was pent up with rage, “Mr. Lester? What have I said about getting to class on time instead of doing drugs behind the dumpsters?  
He shrugged, “I don’t give a fuck about what you say, Roberts.”  
The whole class held its breath, even the kids in the back row.  
“Mr. Lester! You and I are going down to the office right now to see the principal! The rest of you, enjoy your free period!”  
I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. At least he got me a free period, I thought.  
However, I didn’t finish any homework that period. My mind kept wandering to the badass kid. There was no denying that he was attractive as hell, with his blue eyes and dark hair, who wouldn’t be? His eyes were a gorgeous shade of pale blue, and he had a few ear piercings. Again, there was no denying that he was attractive.  
But I bet he was straight, just like how it always worked out with me. I sighed. Why weren’t there any attractive homosexual guys near me?  
The period soon ended, and I carried my stuff to my locker to pack up and leave. Thank god it was the end of the day, I could go home and sleep.

-

I was in bed, and Phil was above me, looking over my (naked) body. He gently placed his lips on mine, closing the distance between us. He stroked my hard on, and grabbed the lube from the bedside drawer.  
“Are you ready?” He asked softly.  
I nodded. He slipped inside of me, moving in and out. I let out a loud, high pitched moan.  
“Fuck, Phil!” I screamed.  
He moved in and out faster, each thrust hitting that small bundle of nerves inside me every time.  
“Phil! I’m going to-” I yelled, and we both came at the same time.

-

I woke up and hit my head on the bookshelf above me with a thud. Shit! I had just met Phil, and I was already having these dreams about him.  
I glanced down into my pants. Yep, they were sticky and pretty wet.  
God, I was such a pervert! I had just met him, for fuck’s sake, and now I was having wet dreams about him. I grimaced, and got out of bed to run to the bathroom. I hopped in the shower and took a quick one to clean up.  
I grabbed a fresh pair of pants and mentally cursed myself. How was I going to face him at school tomorrow? I ruined everything with one stupid dream.  
I hopped back in bed and slowly drifted off back into the land of sleep.

-

The next day was tense. I was quiet for most of the day, almost all of the day, until Phil came up to me during last period.  
“Hey, flower boy, I need help with this problem.” He said and pointed to a problem on the page that he was holding.  
It wasn’t very hard, and I wasn’t really known for my smartness. Before my mind went on its mental train of thought, Phil gestured for me to follow him into the hall. I glanced at the teacher, who was deeply absorbed in his book.  
I sighed, “Fine.”  
One we were out there, Phil grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. I was temporarily in shock, I didn’t respond at all. Finally, my senses returned and I kissed back tentatively.  
I quickly backed away and asked him, “Why?”  
He grinned, “I heard you last night, you know. I was outside, and you didn’t close your window or curtains. I had a great view.”  
I blushed furiously, “No.”  
He grinned again, “Yes.”

-

It was two months later, and Phil and I were celebrating our 1-month anniversary. After we sort of “confessed our feelings for each other”, it was only a matter of time before we we got together.

-

It had been one of the best decisions in my life to go out and talk to the badass kid in the hall that day.


	3. Façades and Falling Outs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** It was all a façade; all of the smiles, all of the closeness. In reality, it wasn’t any better than 2012, it might have been even worse because both of them knew what they were doing this time.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Self harm, implied suicide
> 
>  **Genre:** Angst
> 
>  **Word Count:** 1.1k

It was all a façade.

All the smiles, all the closeness—all of it was fake.

They did it for the viewers, they did it for the all the phan shippers that paid the bills. In reality, they still were just stuck in 2012, stuck in the sadness and the rivers of misery.

They acted all cheerful and couple-y on camera, but once the blinking red light was gone, it was all over. The tears, the harsh words, they were all back and worse every day. Phil yelled at him for not acting happy enough for a few minutes, Dan yelled back just as harshly about _how this was too much, they couldn’t just be normal and not have to put up these walls every time they talked._

 _This isn’t for you, Dan. This is for the phans. Nobody cares about Dan Howell, they only care about danisnotonfire_ , he remembers Phil yelling. He remembers tears beginning to make their way down his face as soon as the words were spit out by a red-faced, angry Phil.

Phil said he didn’t mean it, but Dan never believed him. It was always in the back of his mind—how Phil said nobody cared about him, they only cared about danisnotonfire—as Dan pulled back his sleeves and dragged the blade down his forearm.

He enjoyed it too much when Phil saw the scars. Dan enjoyed the elder man’s screams too much, the yells about how his roommate was a _fucking psychopath and should be shipped off to a fucking psych ward._

He remembers actually feeling those moments, actually feeling happy that Phil saw what he did to the younger man, happy that Phil saw what hell he had put Dan through with his sharp tongue.

Dan only smiled when Phil yelled at him after that. Phil tried to stay away. Dan tried to act cheerful for his family and friends’ sake. He wore long sleeves, and the twinkle in his eyes that used to be present was gone.

Phil was overly cheerful in his videos, trying to cover up how fucked up their lives had become. Dan was gone, at least Dan Howell was, not danisnotonfire. Phil was struggling with his own problems, and both of them couldn’t go a day without yelling at each other.

The phans were always at their throats, there never really was a minute where they truly were isolated and unknown. And with the release of their book, their success became even more widespread. Dan didn’t know how he could keep living at the pace, he wished he hadn’t listed to Phil and posted that fucking video years ago.

—

On Phil’s 30th birthday, he received two things from Dan: one being a cheap box of chocolates and the other a kiss on the cheek.

Dan apologized for the way he’d been acting recently and Phil forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wondered if the scars on Dan’s forearms were still there from two years ago. He wondered if there were even more now.

Dan did seem more cheerful, but he didn’t let Phil in anymore. He bottled all of his feelings and was a closed book. The phans couldn’t seem to figure out what happened to the man from 3 years ago; the one with twinkling eyes and the laugh that filled up a room.

They couldn’t seem to figure out what happened to Phil as well. He wasn’t as happy anymore and his smiles never did quite reach his eyes, so he tried to compensate by being extremely cheerful in his videos.

The videos were the only outlook onto their lives, they only could see a well-polished, ever so slight fraction of their lives. The phans only knew what Dan and Phil chose to tell them, which wasn’t very much.

Even with the extremely limited viewpoint, most of the phandom thought that they were dating until 2015, then broke up. The truth was that they never had dated at all, they barely talked to each other at all these days—how could they break up _and_ date?

Phil wondered where this was all going. Both of them were shells of the people they had been before, and Phil’s YouTube shelf life was going to expire any day this year. He was one of the oldest people on the site today, it was about time that people got tired of him.

—

 _Can’t you see that you’re smothering me?_  
_Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control_  
_‘Cause everything that you thought I would be_  
_Has fallen apart right in front of you_

The pressure was too much for Dan, all the screaming phans, all the new reporters and talk show hosts—it was just too much. He just wanted to go back to the days when he was young, when the world wasn’t lusting after him.

Nobody except Phil had noticed that he wasn’t as happy as he seemed in 2012.

Nobody except Phil helped him get through 2012.

And now Phil was gone, spiraled down the same rabbit hole as he had.

Was he back where he was all those years ago, when he was 17 and depressed? If he was, this time he didn’t even have Phil to guide him to the light at the end of the tunnel, he would just suffocate in the darkness of his mind.

It was all _too much._

—

 _British YouTuber Commits Suicide By Jumping Off Building_ , by Tommy Hopman

Dan Howell, 26, died late Sunday evening when his body was found by roommate and fellow YouTuber, Phil Lester. Lester was unavailable for comment

“I can’t believe it,” Howell’s mother said when asked how she was coping. “I thought he was finally happy. He had everything! Why’d he do it?”

According to family members, Howell had a previously diagnosed case of depression 9 years ago, but was able to get over it. Specialists think that the underlying condition may have prompted Howell to kill himself.

Howell’s father and immediate family were not available for comment, as well as the police department.


	4. I Knew You Were Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** Dan breaks up with his longtime boyfriend, so he runs back home to Phil. Platonic!Phan
> 
>  **Genre:** Fluff
> 
>  **Warnings:** Slight angst
> 
>  **Word Count:** around 1k

Dan inserted the key and opened the door to the flat— judging by the drawn blinds and the shoes missing from the rack, it looked like the owner wasn’t home. Dan took off his coat and set it down on the table in front of him.

He ran upstairs, only to find his boyfriend, Matt, staring down at him, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

“Dan, where were you?” Matt asked, with forced calamity in his tone. "I was just about to call the police and report you as a missing person!"

“Matt, I thought I told you already,” Dan sighed, “I was with Phil. We were playing Mario Cart, and I guess I lost track of the time. Sorry for worrying you, babe."

“Of course you were with fucking _Phil_ ” Matt said.

“What do you mean?"

"You spend all your time with him, and not _me_! I'm your boyfriend!"

"Look, Matt, babe, you’re incredible and great, and I get that you are possessive of me. But I also have other friends that I want to talk to!” Dan exclaimed, “You’re being really ridiculous right now!”

“Are you cheating on me?” Matt asked quietly. “Is that why you spend so much time with this mysterious ‘Phil’ and not me? I swear you’ve been at his house every day for the last week; I’ve hardly been able to see you at all!”

“Matt, it’s not like that,” Dan sighed, exasperated.

“You're being a real dick, Dan. You need to spend time with me, too!” Matt snapped.

“I’m the dick? You’re outright saying I’m cheating on you just because I spend time with my friends!” Dan yelled.

Matt glared at him. “You know what? Get out.” he growled. "I need time to think, without you in the way."

"What?"

Matt sighed. “Dan, get out. I need time to think about this."

"Are we breaking up?" Dan whimpered.

“I don’t know, Dan. Will you get out and run back to your new boyfriend Phil or will I have to use force to get you out of here?” 

Dan slowly walked down the stairs. His eyes began pooling with tears. It was just like Matt to do something like this— he assumed the worst of every situation without listening at all to anyone else.

What would he do now? Dan didn’t have a flat of his own, and Matt wasn't going to let him back in for the night. He roomed with a guy named Caspar from his college days, but he was out of town. He could always go to Phil’s, of course, but it was on the other end of town, and all Dan had with him was his phone — no money.

Dan decided call Phil and hope for the best. He took his phone out of his pocket, punched in Phil’s number, and waited in tense silence.

“Phil? It’s Dan."

“Dan, yeah?” Phil answered. The reception seemed bad, every word was crackly and staticky.

“Hey, Phil, can you come pick me up? I’m at the intersection between Thames and Jackson.”

“Sure, Dan. I’m in my car right now, anyway. But why?”

“It’s a long story. Can you get here in 15 minutes? I think the rain might be starting up again soon.” Dan said, and then he cut off the call.

He stood there on the streets and tapped his foot impatiently. Soon, there was a crack of thunder and heavy rain started to fall in sheets, just as the forecast had predicted this morning. Dan still stood there, getting soaked.

Phil pulled up shortly. “Dan? Are you okay?”

He nodded and opened the door to the passenger seat and got in. Dan’s clothes were dripping with water, so the leather seats of Phil’s car immediately became damp when he sat down.

“Dan, what’s wrong?” Phil asked as he drove steadily towards his flat. He kept his eyes on the road, purposefully not looking at Dan.

“Matt and I broke up. He kicked me out.” Dan said, shivering both from the cold and the memory. "He was being a real dick."

"Do I need to fight him for you?" Phil asked.

Dan felt the corners of his mouth tugging up into a smile. “No. I think I'll be fine."

Phil grinned. “He didn't deserve you, anyway. You were too good for him."

Dan giggled. “Nobody is worthy of dating the amazing Daniel Howell." 

Phil smiled and conversation ceased. They drove in comfortable silence until they reached a brownstone house on the end of a street. 

“We’re here!” Phol said, stopping at driveway of the familiar building.

They walked in, Dan still with his damp clothes, and with Phil’s jacket draped over him. It must have been a comical sight—two grown men, one wearing a dripping wet black ensemble except for the warm blue and white checkered jacket draped over his shoulders, and the other one with a graphic tee and skinny jeans and dyed hair. They must have looked like circus freaks.

They walked up the 3 flights of stairs to Phil’s flat, and plopped down on his sofa. “Dan, do you need a change of clothes?” Phil asked.

“What does it look like?” Dan asked sarcastically.

“You can go change in my room then. I guess I’ll set up a Harry Potter marathon.”

Dan changed, and when he got back, there was a tub of popcorn with _Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone_ already playing on the TV.

“Good enough for Mr. I-Just-Got-My-Heart-Broken?” Phil asked.

"Yes, this is perfect!" Dan smiled as he eased into the worn leather couch. "Thanks, Phil."


	5. The Truth About Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:** Forever really doesn't last that long.
> 
>  **Genre:** Angst
> 
>  **Warnings:** Suicide, depression
> 
>  **Word Count:** 647

_Phil had kissed the top of Dan’s head and whispered softly, “I love you. You’ll always be mine, Bear. We’ll have a nice little cottage in the countryside when we’re older, and we can die in each other’s arms.”_

_Dan remembered whispering back, “I love you too, Lion. We’ll be together forever, I know it deep down in my heart.” They had gone to bed happy that night, unassuming of the troubles that lay before them._

Dan grimaced as he saw the box. It was dented in multiple places, and the polished wood was dusty and dull. The legendary box that held the tickets of when Dan and Phil met was in terrible condition, Dan had broken it in a fit of rage when he had gotten the call. Until today, it sat there, buried hilt-deep in the closet so that he wouldn’t have to see it ever again. Dan’s eyes filled with water, and a single tear slid down his cheek. Phil was gone, but here it was, the evidence that he had once been alive, he had once loved Dan.

And that was all in the past.

Over.

The tears started to flow freely down Dan’s face, they came more easily than ever these days. His health had deteriorated, just like what was left of his social life and YouTube career. For fuck’s sake, the last time Dan and actually seen another human being was almost a full 2 months ago. It was over, and he couldn’t seem to get a fucking grip on himself. Phil was dead, and he was never going to come back, ever. He was gone, and he left Dan behind to deal with the heartbreak. A breeze fluttered through the door that Dan forgot to close—he liked leaving them open these days to remind himself of how the flat was like before Phil’s death. The chilled late-summer wind dried the tears on Dan’s neck, and reminded him of what he had promised to himself after the phone call. He would stay strong, he wouldn’t dwell on the past any more than necessary.

Dan let a final, stray tear flow down his cheek and stood up from where he had collapsed on the floor before. He needed to get rid of all of Phil’s things, he was moving, for one thing, and it had been months since the elder’s death and Phil’s parents would be expecting their son’s things delivered to them. Dan grabbed the wooden box and smiled to himself one last time.

“I miss you, Phil,” he whispered quietly, “it’s been so long, yet it still feels like you’ll be coming home from Tesco with the groceries, like nothing happened. God, I wish I had been the one to go instead of you, the you wouldn’t have gotten hit, I wouldn’t have gotten that fucking phone call that changed my life, and you would be here.“ Dan continued, "Sometimes, Phil, I really want to die so I could be with you. I loved you so much, y'know? It wasn’t even like a teenage crush thing—I seriously thought that we were going to get married in a few years." "Well, that all went to shit now. You’re dead, I’m moving away from London soon, and this’ll be all in the past.” he mumbled. Dan wiped the liquid from his face and stood up. He stepped out of the room onto the balcony, where he could see all of London. The lights of the city seemed to taunt him, they wanted him to jump off the edge, to see if he could do it. Dan knew that it wasn’t the right choice, that he needed help, but in that moment he had nothing left. Phil was gone, fucking forever, and Dan had to live his whole life without him. Dan smiled. “I guess we’ll be together anyway, Phil."

And he jumped.


	6. it's live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Prompt:** Them accidentally coming out during a liveshow.
> 
>  **Genre:** Fluff
> 
>  **Warnings:** None
> 
>  **Word Count:** 262

“Hey guys.” Phil smiled at the computer, greeting the crowd watching from behind the screen. “Hold on, let me tweet that the liveshow’s started before moving on,” he said as he logged on to Twitter. He quickly tweeted the message out, then switched back to the liveshow.

“Someone in the chat asked how Dan is. Well, he’s fine. I think,” he remarked. “He started watching this new tv show last night and I’m pretty sure he got through at least two seasons. I think he’s still asleep, he was just heading to bed when I was making breakfast.”

“What was that about me?” Dan called out from the kitchen, hearing Phil. Judging by the scratchiness of his voice, he had recently woke up. “Are you insulting me this early in the morning?”

“Dan, it’s not the morning. It’s the afternoon,” Phil said, grinning.

“Whatever — oh fuck!” Dan swore. He had dropped the bowl of cereal on his foot, the shards everywhere and the milk puddling on the floor.

“Well, Dan’s sort of fine,” Phil corrected, chuckling. “If you didn’t hear it, Dan just dropped a bowl of cereal on his foot. He just woke up, he’s even more clumsy than I am.”

Phil turned around to see Dan stomping into his room. He grabbed the other man’s face and pressed their lips together. “C'mere,” Dan mumbled against his lips. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Dan, the livestream is on,” Phil said frantically, panic edging its way into his voice. “They can see us kissing.”

Dan’s head shot up. “Oh fuck.”

“Exactly.”


End file.
